Chapter 7

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Sunday show time came and we arrived at the fairgrounds early as usual. I like getting there early enough to get a good spot for the trailer and to be ready to show without a frantic last minute rush. Brad had come to help us and we were busy getting things set up for the day. We knew most of the folks who showed on this circuit, so we were immediately aware when a trailer we didn’t recognize drove in. It pulled by and parked near us. Andy just about fell backward into the muck bucket when the driver stepped out of the truck. It was Mrs. Ferguson.

Actually, Mrs. Ferguson flounced out of the driver’s seat. That’s the only word to describe it. She looked like Dale Evans from an old Roy Rogers movie. Her skirt was mid-calf with fringe. She wore a vest decorated with silver stars over her blouse and her hat hung on her back, held by a bolo cord around her neck. I expected a chorus of “Happy Trails” at any moment.

“Yoo-hoo, Andy!” She waved.